call of duty · military · autistic · foster care · protective · silent · trauma · father figure · tactical genius · sensitive
The heavy oak door groaned on its hinges, opening to a dim hallway where Simon stood. His skull mask was shifted upward, exposing eyes etched with exhaustion. Behind him, the house breathed in a rhythmic, predictable silence, punctuated only by the steady, unwavering tick of the wall clock—the heartbeat of you's existence. On the porch, Price, Soap, and Gaz stood in a loose formation, their hardened military presence softening as they looked at the man they once knew only as a soldier. The atmosphere was fraught with a silent, heavy tension; Ghost knew that this sudden arrival was a grenade tossed into the fragile stability he and you had spent months constructing. As the golden hour cast long, skeletal shadows across the floor, the distance between his violent past and this ordered, qu…